Part of the Job
by merlinspants394
Summary: Being an Auror has its ups and downs, but how far is too far? Ron has a tough decision to make.


_For the Ultimate Battle Competition: Demon Wings- any wordcount, a lightside character casts a successful killing curse, and the fallout from this event_

* * *

"Are you sure?" Harry asks, but he knows. The look of disappointment and dejection on Ron's face is something that he can hardly bear to look at, and he can't really blame him.

Outside of the Head Auror's office where they now sit, memos are flying about the room, occasionally veering off course and hitting the door or the ceiling in confusion. Interns hand off paperwork to other interns and Aurors sit about dictating notes to their quills while reaching for their lukewarm coffee. It's Monday in the Auror office. A seemingly typical Monday but for the dilemma that Harry and Ron now face in Harry's office that is still half in boxes. He was never one to sit behind a desk after all.

He sits behind one now, eyeing his best friend who has bags under his eyes from a weekend without sleep, as if an Auror's worst nightmare hadn't already come true. A Friday night mission went wrong, and Monday morning comes with a new perspective on what it means to do this for a living, to do whatever it takes to catch Dark wizards, and to contemplate how far is too far.

The bustle outside the door fades and the silence between the two of them is deafening, Harry's question hanging in the air.

"Are you sure?"

Ron nods his head. "I can't do this anymore, mate. It's been a long time coming quite honestly. You know being an Auror was something more suited for you, than me."

"Don't say that," Harry says, shifting uncomfortably.

"No, it's true." Ron rubs his eyes and then averts his attention, suddenly becoming fascinated with the paint peeling off the wall in the corner. "I think I had my share of Dark wizards before we even left Hogwarts."

"You're a great Auror though," Harry insists.

"Not as good as you."

Harry's knee automatically jerks at the statement, always too self conscious of where things seem to stand between them, but Ron holds up his hand before Harry can interrupt him. "It's not like I chickened out or that I don't think I can do it. I clearly _can_ do it. I killed someone."

And the sickening weight of the truth catches at Ron's throat as he says it. _I killed someone._

It was a split second decision, one that all the Aurors are trained to make. A decision that wasn't technically even wrong; Unforgivables are acceptable in unique situations, and the conclusion that everyone had come to that evening was that Ron had done his duty, and a dangerous criminal was no longer a threat and that was all that mattered. At least on paper.

"It happens," Harry reasons. "Hazard of the job. You know that. Besides, you didn't have much choice."

"What would you have done?" Ron asks.

Harry runs a hand through his disheveled hair. "It's not about what I would have done," he says, though he understands what it is that Ron means. He would never use _Avada Kedavra_ on an opponent. Even now, Expelliarmus is his spell of choice.

Ron slumps even further into his chair, and it kills Harry to watch his friend suffer. For so long Harry has watched Ron become a great Auror- someone he can depend on. For a change it didn't seem as though Ron was living in anyone's shadow. Fear of failing isn't holding him back now. And for his short career to end this way doesn't seem right. "What does Hermione say?"

"Not much, believe it or not," Ron says miserably. "I think she wants me to make my own decision. I already have a job with George at the shop if I want it, and I'm telling you mate, I just don't think I can be an Auror anymore."

Harry sighs, disappointed but not surprised if he's being honest with himself. "You're always welcome back, mate," he says finally.

Ron smiles weakly. "Thanks, Harry."

He slowly gets up, and goes for the door, but turns before he opens it. "I'll..er…I'll clean out my cubicle later."

Harry nods. "Sure. I'll see you at Hermione's? Dinner tonight, yeah?"

Dinner. Hermione. Ron's face begins to soften in relief at the idea of life going on as before, if not quite the same. At least some things won't change. Not really.

"Yeah," Ron says. "Dinner tonight."

He pauses just once more.

"You know they call them Unforgivables for a reason," he says.

He leaves Harry speechless. A few memos come whizzing through the door to skid across his desk. Kingsley Shacklebolt is making his rounds and stops in to chat. And suddenly Harry's life moves on, and Ron will have to wait until dinner. It's all part of the job, he reminds himself. But today, that's not so reassuring.


End file.
